A little bit of silver
by KelsWinchester
Summary: Stiles is in a mental institute for believing his best friend is a werewolf and speaks about going out to find him. Three months later and Stiles is still stuck and alone, until one morning he sees a dark haired guy sitting in the corner table, gazing out of the window.


Stiles learned to hate the colour white because it was everywhere. The walls, the doors, the cups, even his clothes. White was wherever he went, that neutral colour that everyone uses to keep a calm of mind, a minimalist option that doesn't turn any heads or cause any distress.

But Stiles hated it, he hated this place, he didn't deserve to be here. He _wasn't_crazy, people just didn't understand, they haven't seen what he's seen. Instead of trying to understand him they threw him into a building where he would tend to blend in and look 'normal' among the other mentally disturbed.

Werewolves were real. That was Stiles' resolve. Every morning he woke up determined to make people notice that he was right, to walk down the quiet, blank corridors, into the common room and throw something into someone's face screaming _'I was right'_ and leave.

He's been here three months and it still hasn't happened but, he couldn't bring himself to hate his dad for putting him in here. His dad visited him at least once a week; most times they sat in silence whilst his dad looked at him sadly, almost disappointed. Stiles hated that look no matter how many times he had seen it. It always burned his eyes with tears but they never fell.

For the twelfth visit, his dad sat down in silence as usual whilst Stiles kept his eyes on the table, his fingers fiddling with the small silver cross around his neck that the nurses surprisingly let him keep. Silver kept him safe, safe from the werewolves.

"How are you feeling today, son?" Sheriff Stilinski asked in a soft voice, his eyes looking over at Stiles. "Your bags have become darker, have you been sleeping?"

Stiles looked up this time with his eyebrows raised, his expression reading '_are you fucking kidding me?_' Stiles couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter, his fingers never moving from his necklace. "The _5 star quality_ of this place isn't _really_ up to my sleeping standards."

He didn't mean to snap but his anger was brimming and his leg was starting to shake on the spot. What did his dad expect ? The beds were as hard as rock and he was woken patients screaming in the middle of the night, the rooms were cold and his head was always hurting.

The rest of the visit passed in silence as Stiles trailed his eyes back down, the time ticking slowly before his dad left, leaving him alone in this hell hole once again.

The nurse patted him on the back softly and led him from the area and back into the common room. He was so alone here, he couldn't talk to anyone, and they either looked at him behind blank and dead eyes or just thought he was the devil in human form. He equally thought they were wolves in human form but shit, it didn't stop him from trying to make a conversation.

When he got into the common room he tucked his hands into the pockets of his white trousers, his tired brown eyes looking around until he noticed someone who he hadn't seen in here before. A guy, probably in his late twenties, dark haired, his eyes gazing out of the only free window left in the room. He didn't look_ that_ crazy; maybe Stiles could finally make a friend.

He approached carefully, not really knowing what to expect but before he could speak the guy's blue eyes turned to him first. "Hi there." Stiles said with a small smile on his face, sitting across from the guy, his eyes still trailing him. "I'm Stiles Stilinski."

Stiles held a hand out in politeness but the guy just looked at it before looking out the window again. The only good looking guy in the whole place and he's a lost cause too. "Derek", the guy said quietly. Stiles lowered his hand but smiled a little bit more and leaned his arms on the table hopefully to engage in more of a conversation.

"Does Derek have a last name?" Derek turned and ran a hand over his dark stubble.

"Hale."

Stiles sat for a moment and nodded slowly, making a movement with his hand for Derek to speak more. Derek simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Okay, what are you in here for?" It was a little brave asking it straight away but what else was he meant to ask? How's the weather? What's your favourite past time apart from hating this place?

Derek's eyes scanned the boy up and down, his body staying in the relaxed position within his chair. Stiles could tell he was trying to work out whether to trust Stiles or not, whether he would laugh in his face for whatever reason he was here. Stiles could promise he wouldn't laugh but he let Derek work it out for himself.

"People… Won't believe…" Stiles' interest rose as Derek began to speak, but Derek stopped and looked around the room to see if people were listening or whether he didn't want to say after all and just cut himself off, finding a reason to maybe escape their conversation. Eventually Derek's eyes came back around to land on Stiles. "That I'm a werewolf."

Stiles swore he almost leapt out of his seat when Derek said that, his limbs going into a mini spasm as he leaned over the table with an expression stuck between shocked and happy slapped onto his face. He had never felt this sort of happiness in all the three months he had been here. But Derek looked terrified as he leaned back in his seat, his eyes slightly wider.

"Oh shit, dude! Sorry, sorry!" Stiles apologized quickly before settling back into his seat, his torso still partially leaned over the table. "But fuck, seriously?! I mean, I'm here because people won't believe that I _know_ werewolves exist! This is awesome, can I see?!"

Derek's face still looked like it had been slapped with a fish but he straightened himself back up and shielded his eyes so the rest of the room couldn't see. The blue of his eyes flashed a blood red before returning to blue again.

Stiles had to dig his nails into his thighs to stop himself from reacting crazily to this beautiful discovery, instead he just smiled, wider and happier than he had smiled in so long and it felt weird on his face to smile like that again but it felt amazing too. "I can't believe there are other werewolves, I mean my best friend, Scott, he's a werewolf too! We were out one night in the forests near my school and he got bitten by a werewolf. But I haven't seen him since that night since he probably ran off in the confusion of himself, so… I need to find him!"

Derek let a small smirk pass over his lips before it quickly faded again as people scuttled past.

"Why don't people look at you?" Stiles' excitement faded a little when people kept looking at him weirdly before mumbling to themselves. Stiles noticed that people do that here, a lot. Thank God Stiles still had a bit of sanity left to stop him from talking to himself.

Derek shrugged slightly and watched the odd person going by. "I just scare them."

"Well you do give off a bit of a 'touch me and I'll tear your throat out' aura." Stiles turned back to Derek with the small smile returning. Derek snorted slightly and raised an eyebrow at him.

"And yet you still came over here and spoke to me."

"That's because I love to jump head first into danger!" Stiles patted a hand on his chest to make himself look brave but Derek's eyebrows dropped and looked blankly at him. "Yeah okay, I'm just 147 pounds of pure curiosity cat and I love to pry my nose into stuff."

"Medicine collection!" A nurse called out to the common room, Stiles groaned and lifted himself slowly from his seat. He hated taking medication, one for the apparent mental craziness and one for the ADHD he'd been taking since he was 8. He looked around and saw Derek gaze back out the window.

"You're not coming to get yours?" Derek simply shook his head and kept his eyes on the outside. Stiles had no idea why, the view wasn't anything special unless you liked grass and safety fences.

"I had mine earlier." Stiles nodded slowly and shrugged before heading to the several windows where the other patients were getting their medicine. Once Stiles got his and a cup of water he down them and shuddered afterwards, like always. Same old, same old.

"So!" Stiles called out as he flopped back down to where he was sat before, his arms draping over the back of the seat. He stared at Derek for a while with a small content smile on his face. Sure the guy wasn't much of a talker but he wasn't completely insane and didn't mind his company - well, so he assumed. "What do you think of this place?"

"Hate it." Derek hissed out under his breath, his hands clenching on his thighs. Stiles frowned slightly and leaned an elbow back onto the table. There was pure anger in Derek's expression, and he knew how that felt.

"We should escape. Break out! I mean you're a werewolf, right, you do have the strength, the speed", Stiles excitedly whispered under his breath as Derek turned around slowly, his full attention now on the kid. "I mean I know this place inside and out, every corridor, every exit, and every fault in the system. Come on, I can find Scott and you can go home!"

Derek stilled for a moment, working it out, always working it out. Stiles jerked a little in his seat, his leg starting to shake in anticipation. "Fine." Stiles' eyes widened as did his smile, his nails digging into his leg again to stop himself from giving anything away. "But why with me? You've known me for all of half an hour."

He had a point. A huge point really. Stiles chewed at his lip and leaned back into his seat, this time his own eyes looking outside over the gardens. This guy was everything he had believed, he was a werewolf, he wasn't crazy and he could prove it.

Apart from that, he had no reason to trust him. But, there was something, there was something about Derek that Stiles could trust completely, put his own life into the werewolves hands and not regret a thing. He was the first guy he trusted since he got here. That's all he needed. Him and Derek were going to break out of here together.

"I trust you Derek. I just do, that's all the reasoning I need." Stiles turned back to the werewolf with a sure smile over his face and nodding slightly to confirm that he meant it. Derek sighed and broke into a small smile of his own.

"Then I guess we do this."

"Tomorrow. I'll work some stuff out and tomorrow will be the day we get out of here." Stiles replied in a hushed voice before looking around and luckily seeing no one nearby. Their plan was safe.

The rest of the day flew by with Stiles nagging his head off to Derek, talking about how much he hated the food here and the colour white with the fact that it was everywhere, he had forgotten what other colours looked like really. Derek just listened, his head nodding when it needed to, never speaking over him or uttering a bad word for him to shut up. He actually_ listened_.

Stiles couldn't remember the last time someone did that and it was satisfying to finally blurt out a load of crap on his chest and feel a little lighter and a lot happier. "Come on dude, we gotta get back to rooms now."

Both of them got up slowly and headed out of the common room, Stiles still chatting away to Derek. "… I mean as soon as I got back from the forests I started researching werewolves like mad. I needed to know everything about them so I could help Scott when I find him, so he knows that I may be human but I can still help him you know?"

Derek nodded and tucked his hands into his pockets. "It was a good idea to do that; at least you'll know how to handle him a little." Stiles smiled and slapped himself on the forehead for his own stupidity.

"Maybe _you _can help him Derek! You can be like, were-bro's or something! Would that be cool?" Stiles paused and nodded his head towards the door meaning it was his room; Derek stopped and turned, shuffling backwards as he spoke.

"Yeah Stiles, that'd be cool."

Stiles silently fist pumped the air and smiled until his jaw began to ache. "Oh dude, this is going to be so awesome. Do you want me to walk you to your room or anything?"

Derek pulled a hand from his pocket and waved it lazily. "I can find it myself." Stiles nodded and waved quickly before going into his room. Automatic lock-down would be in 10 minutes which he hated, the thought that everyone was just locked into their rooms like animals. Health and safety for the crazier ones he guessed.

But nothing would bring him down now, he dropped onto his bed and stared at the, what a surprise, _white_ ceiling with that smile plastered onto his face. Sure he was still tired and sure the bed was still rock hard under him but he wouldn't be here for much longer. He'd be out and free by tomorrow afternoon just in time for dinner with his dad.

He closed his eyes and felt himself fall into the easiest sleep he had in a long time.

_"Stiles, just run!"_

_His chest was heaving and his legs were aching to the point he didn't even know how they were running anymore. He barely heard Scott shout at him, the beating of his heart drowning out every single sound around him._

_It was dark, and cold, and Stiles couldn't hear Scott's footsteps behind him anymore, he couldn't remember when he stopped hearing them but it registered Scott wasn't there. He turned quickly and saw nothing but trees and faint fog stopping him from seeing anything long distance._

_He clamped his hand to his shirt and felt it was damp : sweat, blood? But Stiles couldn't remember getting hurt. He shook his head and looked up to see a full moon taking up the vision of the small gaps the trees had made to the sky._

_He waited for a few minutes, his eyes darting around the area, waiting, for something… The faint sound of sirens filled his ears when he heard the piercing noise of a howl. It rang in his ears and filled his mind, that one sound starting to fill his chest with panic and his vision blurring over._

_"SCO—"_

"—OTT!" Stiles sat up quickly and held his head tight in his hands, that howling echoing around his head. His best friend was a werewolf and he could do nothing about it. His eyes began to burn with tears but he shook them away.

That nightmare had been cursing his sleep for the past four months. Every single time the same thing happened, but the effect never lessened. He always woke up in cold sweats and pounding headaches.

"Nightmare?"

Stiles shot his head up quickly to see Derek standing in the corner of the room; he jumped and raised his eyebrows seeing that the window was intact and untouched, as was the door. "Dude, that's really fucking creepy, and how did you…?"

Derek smirked and raised his hand where his nails grew into sharp claws before retracting them again. "They're good for picking the hardest of locks." Stiles laughed, wiped his eyes and slapped his thigh.

"Well fuck, how handy! But if you can do that, why not just break out as soon as you got here? I mean you _can_. It's not hard!" Derek let out a small exhausted sigh and sat on the edge of Stiles' bed, facing him.

"It was either I got caught and came in here, get hunted down and made into a circus/freak piece or just get plain hunted and killed." Stiles frowned slightly and shuffled his legs up the bed so Derek could sit with him properly.

"And here was the lesser of the three evils?" Derek nodded and Stiles frowned even more.

"But when we break out, what are you going to do?"

"Help you, help Scott and get as far away from here as possible, live remote and just… be what I am." Stiles finally broke into a smile and took Derek's hand.

"Good to see you remembered Scott in this!" Stiles looked down as his eyes widened, pulling his hand away and tensing. "Ah dude, I didn't… I'm sorry!"

Derek let out a soft and short laugh as he shook his head. "It's fine."

Stiles loosened himself up again and just sat in silence with Derek for a while. This was different from the silence with his dad. This one was relaxed and enjoyed, whilst his dad's silences were judging and tense.

Stiles looked out of the window and saw the moon looming. It wasn't a full moon but a half moon - still looked as amazing. He looked back to see Derek doing the same thing. He smiled and reached over, grabbing Derek's shirt to get his attention.

"Stay with me", Stiles asked quietly, his eyes half-lidded and tired and his voice weak with worry from the nightmare. He wouldn't be able to sleep the rest of the night alone and having someone with him would be very welcome right now. Derek looked down at Stiles' hand and then to his face. It saddened him to see someone so young look so broken.

"Only for a while, okay?" Stiles nodded instantly and smiled as he pulled his hand away and laid himself down. Derek sighed and moved himself more up the bed so was lying in front of Stiles, the boys eyes already closed but a smile plastered onto his face.

Derek pulled Stiles into him, resting Stiles' head against his chest and his own face buried into the buzz cut of Stiles' hair. He rested a hand carefully on the boy's back and the other stroking over the back of his hair. Stiles hummed quietly, "Thank you" as he fell into the first dreamless sleep in 4 months.

The next morning Stiles opened his eyes slowly to see that he was alone and messily curled up into the covers on his bed. He groaned and ran the palms of his fists over his eyes before sitting up. He actually slept and without a nightmare, it was almost foreign to him now. Stiles ran a hand through his hair and smiled, remembering Derek's soft touch merely hours ago, an instant good start to his day.

He dragged himself from his bed to put some clean clothing on, he pulled out a draw from the small desk given and pondered over his choice.

"Now, do I choose this dazzling white mental person outfit or, this crisp and clean white mental person outfit?" Stiles smiled at his own humour and changed into the same outfit he wore every day before patting it down and heading out into the common room for breakfast.

"Good morning, here's your breakfast." The nurse smiled as sweetly as she could after probably saying that for hundredth time this morning and passed him a tray; Stiles looked down and groaned to see the grey porridge and contrastingly bright orange slices on a separate plate next to it.

"Thank you." Stiles replied with a smile, which was something the nurse probably didn't get all that often around here. He scanned the room to see Derek sitting in the same place as yesterday, his eyes staring out of the window again. Stiles walked over quickly and sat down with his tray. "Gooood morning sourwolf!"

Derek turned and raised an eyebrow to Stiles who shoved an orange slice in his mouth, chewing away at it happily. "Sourwolf?"

Stiles swallowed quickly and wiped his mouth. "You were looking out the window like you had a lemon in your mouth!" Stiles laughed and stirred the porridge with a horrid look on his face. "Where's your breakfast?"

"I ate mine long before you got here." Derek looked down at the porridge and crinkled his nose at it. Stiles noted that as cute, but also noted to never say that out loud.

"Not a fan of the porridge? I never finish it all anyway." Stiles laughed slightly and took a mouthful before wincing and swallowing and replacing the taste with another slice of orange. "I uh, wanted to say thank you for ahem, you know, last night." Stiles felt his cheeks start to redden slightly but a smile over Derek's face made him feel better.

"I'm guessing you slept well?"

"Yeah but where did you go? I woke up and you were gone, I didn't even notice you leave!" Derek simply shrugged and clasped his hands together on the table.

"You must have slept deep due to me being there so I left without you noticing." Stiles looked down at his porridge, even feeling is ears start to burn now. He couldn't tell Derek that because he was there he hadn't had a nightmare for the first time in months or how comforting the touch of his hand against his hair made him forget he was in hell.

So instead, he just coughed, looked back up and changed the subject.

"So, todays plan," Stiles started with a hushed voice as he leaned over slightly, Derek doing the same. "Dinner times are when the security is at its weakest because of all the patients grouped into this one room. We can sneak through a lot easier into the gardens where there's a weak patch in the fence. No one knows about it because no one's driven attention to it so I know it's there for the taking."

"Basically we head into the garden at dinner time, go through a fence and run?" Derek smiled slightly and Stiles pouted and puffed his cheeks up before blowing the air in Derek's face and laughing.

"Basically." Stiles sat back and finished off his breakfast, leaving most of the porridge untouched as per usual. Derek rolled his eyes and watched Stiles fiddle with the small cross around his neck. "I can't believe I'm finally going to get out of here."

Derek reached out and touched with the tip of his finger the silver before pulling it back quickly and hissing at the stinging in his fingers. Stiles looked up and sighed, grabbing his finger and running his thumb over the burn and already seeing it healing. "It's silver you dumbass. It'll burn."

"Sorry." Derek looked down at their hands, Stiles' hold staying there with his fingers light and careful around Derek's wrist, his other hand brushing over his palm. "Stiles…"

Stiles felt his eyes drift down onto the table as he slowly started to pull his hand away. "Ah, sorry, again I mean I keep—"

"It's okay", Derek said calmly, his own hand holding onto Stiles' wrist to stop him pulling away. That small movement made Stiles look up again, his tired brown eyes a little wider and alert and a smile weakly spreading across his face. People glanced at him and raised eyebrows at him but he didn't care, this felt nice.

Stiles traced a finger over the creases in Derek's palm, making him calm again. "A few more hours and we'll be gone Derek. Free." He sighed happily and looked up at Derek who was watching the soft movement of the finger along his hand. "Tell me more about you being a werewolf."

Derek looked up to meet Stiles' eyes and chewed on his lip, thinking where to even start. "Well, I was born a werewolf, as a werewolf. Trained to use my senses properly like hearing people approach, seeing through conditions in which human eyes aren't well trained to see in, smelling people out and controlling myself."

"Mhm," Stiles breathed out, his thumb brushing over the back of Derek's hand and messily linking and unlinking fingers together. "How did you control yourself?"

"Anchors, where we think of stuff that keep us grounded, like family, friends, emotions." Derek's eyes hooded over at the answer and kept his eyes down. Stiles saw something there that Derek was hiding but he didn't want to pry for once and left it.

"I wonder if I'd be Scott's anchor, being his best friend and all." Stiles frowned slightly and squeezed his hand around Derek's. "I bet he doesn't even know I'm here."

"You'll find him soon, Stiles." Derek reassured him with a forced smile on his face, Stiles nodded and looked out the window past the gardens, past the fences and into the green and roads outside, his eyes scanning along the landscape hoping to see something, _someone_, only seeing plain landscape and partially blue skies. Even the white in the clouds was starting to annoy him.

The next few hours lasted mostly in Stiles babbling about what he was going to do when he got out, how Derek could stay in his room if he wanted as long as his dad didn't find out. Derek rolled his eyes and watched Stiles' hand jitter around a lot against his own as he spoke in his own excitement. Stiles decided he was going to go to a store first and buy some food to give to Scott just in case he never went home and is still roaming out there somewhere.

"But you'll stay with me, right, Derek?" Stiles looked hopeful under his worried expression; the werewolf leaned forward and planted a kiss on the boy's forehead before rising from his seat.

"I'll always be there with you Stiles." He said quietly and headed for the exit of the common room; Stiles touched his forehead lightly and smiled as his cheeks started to redden all over again before following Derek out.

The corridors were bare as he expected, with the odd patient heading past to go for their lunch, but despite his own grumbling stomach Stiles had more important things to do right now. He glanced over at Derek and nodded. The werewolf nodded back and started to drop back slightly, waiting for Stiles to go out first and then for him to follow a while after so they didn't look too suspicious.

When Stiles got to the doors for the gardens a nurse appeared with her hand coming between him and the door. "Sweetie, it's lunch time, you're heading the wrong way."

Time for Stiles to put his acting face on. "B-But I want to go out, I'm not hungry and I need fresh air!" Stiles forced his eyes to water on the spot as he looked outside through the small window on the door, pushing his body forward, his hands starting to shake and fumble around with each other to make himself look distressed. The nurse sighed and straightened her glasses.

"15 minutes okay darling? Then I need you back in okay?" Stiles nodded quickly and smiled as he headed outside and slowly towards the fence.

_15 minutes is plenty of time._ Stiles thought as he let his eyes run along the fence, remembering where the weak spot was and walking over to it, keeping a distance and just staring out of it. It looked nothing out of the ordinary, luckily. He shook his arms out quickly as he felt the nerves of the whole operation starting to pile onto him, his head starting to ache.

A few moments later he saw Derek by his side doing the same thing. "I see you got through alright then?"

Derek smiled and brushed his fingers against the back of Stiles' hair, the nerves he had suddenly dissipating and his whole body relaxing, the pain in his head residing with one simple touch. "You gotta teach me how you do that." Stiles said softly, his head leaning into the touch.

"Are you ready?" Derek asked as Stiles focused back onto the situation, he took a deep breath and nodded.

"Let's do this." Stiles jiggled his arms and legs before leaping forward, his hands grabbing onto the fence and drawing it back as quickly as he could, the alarms of the building signally the disturbance already. Stiles looked around and cursed as guards and nurses were already starting to come across the garden. "Go!"

Derek grunted under his breath and slipped through the gap before waiting for Stiles. The boy started to crawl through, his hands clawing desperately at the ground as the fence caught onto him, tearing at the cloth and at his skin. "Fuck, _fuck_!"

He could have cried. All this time he had this planned, this one bit of fence he had kept in his mind, all these months and it had had him, like he was never meant to leave. This place was his prison. Derek edged forward to help as he saw nurses and guards grab onto Stiles, calling out something, but Stiles just shook his head and gave the same advice Scott gave to him 4 months ago.

"Derek,_ just run_!" He screamed as he tried to kick against the arms wrapping around him, the pain in his leg starting to register as his eyes started to water over, his cheeks fresh with tears he didn't even know fell anymore.

Derek stared, his body fighting in which way to go. "I'll be back, I swear!" Derek called back before running as fast as he could. Stiles closed his eyes and when he opened them again Derek was gone and the pain in Stiles' head came back fast and hard, almost knocking his vision out of play.

He eventually stopped moving against the hold of the guards around him, admitting defeat, and just watched the landscape fall more and more out of his grasp as he was carried back inside. He wished Derek had come back to help him, that simple touch to the back of his head to stop the hurting, the aching, the pain and the pure feeling of solitude.

Stiles wrapped his hand around his necklace as they carried him through the white corridors. No matter how many times they turned, each one looked exactly the same as the one before. His body placed onto a bed as something was injected into him; he didn't know what it was but his body numbed and his head felt lighter, his hand still holding onto the chain.

"Look what you've done…" The nurse said sadly as she pulled out a small pair of scissors and cut at the remaining fabric around the wound.

Stiles looked down with half hazy eyes and saw the horrid white was splashed with red; he smiled as much as he could with the ruining of that neutral colour but, it soon dropped when he saw claw-like wounds on his leg from the fence wire.

Stiles closed his eyes and imagined Derek running free, the werewolf slipping into the nearest forest and howling, his eyes burning red among the shadows and his nails forming into the claws they were meant to be. His real form to be free and Stiles helped him. That helped the pain running through his body reside a bit, the satisfaction that he was out there now and coming to get him, with Scott.

When the nursed finished in treating his wound, the drug seemed to be fading slightly as he sat up, holding his head with a smile on his face. "They'll come and get me, you know."

The nurse turned, cleaning the blood on her hands, looking completely uninterested. "Hmm, who?"

Stiles stood and hissed at the instant pain that ran along his calf and leaned his weight on the uninjured one. "My friends, they're werewolves you know and if you don't let me out of this place, they will come and tear your throats out."

She sighed and nodded, leading Stiles out of the nurse's office. "I'm sure they will darling." Stiles pulled himself away and tried to stabilize himself without any help, pointing at the nurse and then waving his hand around.

"You'll _all_ regret it you know! When they come and get me out, and then you'll know I wasn't fucking crazy when you're all fucking bleeding by the hands of a real werewolf! Derek said he was coming back for me and I believe him!"

"Stiles…?" Stiles turned quickly at the familiar voice he didn't want to hear, not now, no…

"Dad…" The word got caught in his throat as he said it; Stiles ran a hand over his face to see the sadness over his dad's expression. He heard everything he just screamed. Just when the pain in Stiles' head couldn't get any worse, it increased by tenfold.

"Come on son, I want to talk." Sheriff Stilinski said quietly as he held a hand out, his eyes drifting down to the thick wrapping of bandages around Stiles' leg, his eyes watering over slightly and his head shaking.

Stiles slowly moved his hands from his chest and grabbed his dad's. It felt nothing like when he was holding Derek's hand. There was no comfort there, no safety.

They walked in silence to a small room with a table and two chairs; Stiles gazed around and saw the room was almost completely empty apart from one poster on the door saying '_Keep Smiling_!', if Stiles had the energy he would rip that poster into a million pieces.

When they sat down, Stiles kept his eyes on the table as they both sat in silence. He knew his dad was finding the right thing to start with that didn't involve screaming in his face or bursting into tears of disappointment. Stiles was one big disappointment to his dad and he hated it.

"Why?" was all the Sheriff could get out before he felt his throat clamp up. Stiles shook his head and felt his eyes start to burn already. There were a thousand reasons why he wanted to escape: he was in a mental asylum for something that was real, his own dad put him in said mental asylum, the one friend he made and loved had already gone, his head never stopped hurting, his body never stopped aching and he needed to find Scott. He needed to find him.

"You know why." Stiles replied with the energy from just walking was drained out of him. His dad leaned on the table and held his head in his hands, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth.

"To find Scott, who is a werewolf." His dad had heard this story so many times he sounded bored just saying it. Stiles looked up with a hurt expression, the tears building still refusing to fall, he wouldn't let them. "Stiles…"

"No, dad! You don't understand, Scott is out there all alone and—"

"Stiles, _Scott is dead_ and you know it! Why do you keep denying it?!" Stiles opened his mouth to speak but saw that his dad still wanted to talk, his hands curled into white-knuckled fists. "You held his fucking _dead body_ in your hands son! You were covered in blood and then ran. You ran and ran until we found you almost half a mile away from the body curled up into yourself mumbling about Scott being a werewolf!"

This time Stiles couldn't fight it, the tears had started to fall and the ache in his head pounding away so hard he had to close his eyes to lessen the pain, his hands grasping either side of his head. "Y-You're wrong, he's out there and I've got to… I've…" Stiles shot up out of his seat and ran out of the room, his hand fiercely grabbing the necklace around his neck and tearing it off, gripping it as tight as he could in his hand.

The pain coursing through his body the same as that night, he ran and ran until his injured leg gave out and his back slammed against a wall, his body slumping to the floor, his vision blurred from tears and pain, the blinding white of the corridors hurting his eyes even more as he snapped them shut.

_"Stiles, just run!"_

Scott's cry echoed in his head as he tried to push it away, he shook his head and screamed, his eyes suddenly jerking open to see his clothes and hands drenched in blood, but not his blood, the blood of his best friend who laid on the forest floor and bled to death from a wolf attack.

He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't; if Stiles didn't ask Scott to investigate that dead body in the forest that night he would still be here, he would have his best friend still. He had to believe Scott was out there, running through the forests and howling just as Derek was.

Stiles didn't get his best friend killed.

_He didn't._

Stiles clamped his eyes shut again to make it go away, to deny the blood, to deny the guilt pounding in his head, _always_ pounding in his head, screaming, cries and howling all mixed into one. 24 hours a day that sound would be there, that voice crying you _killed him Stiles, you killed him_, _you're the reason you're best friend is cold in a morgue Stiles_!

"I didn't kill him!" Stiles cried out as his body curled into himself only for him to be lifted up slowly by warm arms and a voice nearly as broken as his.

"It's okay Stiles, I'm sorry…" His dad whispered as he lifted his son from the floor, nurses starting to gather around and chatter quietly but Stiles just wanted to ignore everyone and go back to his denial. His denial was better than this guilt that wouldn't go away, he wanted Derek back, he wanted Derek to sit there and listen to him, nod and not judge.

No one else could do that.

When Stiles decided to open his eyes again he was laid down in his bedroom, his head light but his body still aching from head to toe, his leg more than his head for once. He groaned and placed a hand on his chest feeling his silver cross necklace placed on top, he grabbed it and held it tightly, thinking of when Derek touched it and laughing slightly.

He couldn't deny he missed Derek already, it was fucking stupid but that sourwolf made him happy here and he had lost him. He made his brutal headaches disappear and smiles that weren't forced appear on his face . Derek made him happy like Scott used to.

"Hello darling, how are we feeling?" Stiles jumped at the sudden sound of a nurse coming into his room with a glass of water and a small box of pills. Stiles started to sit himself up but hissed at the pain. "Oh no, please, it's okay, I've just brought your medicine to take okay?"

Stiles nodded slowly at the nurse and watched her place the items down before beginning to leave. "N-Nurse?" He called out weakly; she turned with a sad smile on her face.

"Yes?" Stiles bit his lip and looked over at her, the image of her slightly blurry with the previous sedation wearing off.

"Can you tell me about a patient called Derek Hale?" The nurse looked at Stiles for a moment and frowned.

"We've… never had a patient by that name before, I'm sorry," she nodded towards the medicine and headed out of the room, "please remember to take it, Mr. Stilinski."

Stiles couldn't even remember what the nurse said after 'name' because he swore his heart stopped. This couldn't be happening; he must be asleep or drugged the fuck up or_ something_. Derek Hale wasn't even a patient? Was he some fucked up rogue person who just stumbled into an asylum for shits and giggles?

Anger was brimming but Stiles was too tired to even fight it. He forced himself to sit up despite his whole body screaming pain at him and his heavily watering eyes telling him to lie back down. He looked over at the medicine before picking them up and flinging them against the wall, the tiny tablet scattering across the floor.

"Your nurse said to take them." Stiles' eyes dragged themselves to the corner of the room to see Derek standing there with his arms crossed casually and his body leaning against the wall. Stiles could have flung himself if he had the energy and less pain in his leg.

He moved across to Stiles slowly with a sad puppy-like face expression and sat himself on the end of Stiles' bed. "You. _You_!" Stiles hissed out, his hand curling so hard around the cross on the necklace he felt the metal starting to dig into his skin.

"You complete and utter psycho! You weren't even registered here as a patient and you dragged me through all this shit! You could have just walked out at anytime; I put my trust in you! And then, oh, _and then_ you come back and creep into my room like a complete fucking weirdo!"

Derek didn't move or flinch with the accusations screamed at his face, he simply raised a hand and placed it softly on top of Stiles'. "Stiles…"

"Is everything in here okay?" The nurse appeared again with a worried look on her face and saw Stiles face rile up in more anger, his hands gesturing to the crazy psycho werewolf sat on the edge of his bed.

"I want this crazy motherfucker out of my room!" Derek looked at the nurse and then lowered his eyes, his hand tightening against Stiles' shirt. The nurse paused and gazed around the room before looking back to Stiles with a more worried look mixed with sadness.

"There's no one there sweetheart." She said quietly as her eyes scanned the area where Stiles' hands were gesturing to. Stiles looked over and saw Derek's eyes trailing the floor before looking up again.

"He—He's _there_!" Stiles strained his hand movements more towards Derek to see the werewolf turn and shake his head slightly.

Stiles felt his hands fall to his lap as he looked back to the nurse, forcing a smile. "I was just joking."

He let out a laugh that sounded scary even to him but, the nurse just eyed him weirdly and left the room. His fake laughter soon clamped in his throat as it turned into a choked cry. Derek moved in closer and ran a hand softly over the top of Stiles' hair; Stiles jerked his head away and looked at the werewolf in disgust.

"You're not even real." Stiles hissed as his hands slowly came up to the sides of his head and held it tightly, shaking it slowly, the pieces of things he never noticed before finally coming together and finally making sense. "That's why no one looked at you, why you didn't take medicine, why you didn't eat, why you didn't want me walking you back to your room, why people looked at _me_ weirdly, how you got into my room and why no one chased you when you 'broke out' of here."

Derek pulled his hand away and placed it on his lap, looking over at Stiles, his own expression flooded by sadness. "That's why I appeared. You were so lonely and convinced by your own madness of werewolves that you created me, to fill both of the emptiest gaps within your mind."

"Werewolves aren't real…" Stiles whispered to himself, his head burying itself into his knees, the burning sensation of pain everywhere welcome right now. Stiles wiped his tears against his white trousers before looking up again, his face wrecked beyond possible repair. "_You're_ not real…"

Stiles could cope with the werewolves not being real, he could cope with his best friend being dead eventually, over time he would accept what happened, visit Scott's grave every week and say sorry before leaving fresh flowers but this… "I was falling for you…"

"You were falling for the idea of me." Derek explained softly as a hand returned to Stiles' hair, a comforting touch by someone made from his own mind. Stiles leaned into the touch again, the pain in his head subsiding slightly.

"But how…" Stiles strained out as he placed a single finger onto his forehead, his wet eyes watering over with fresh emotions of confusion and fear. "I felt it Derek, your lips, _here_."

"Just like you felt the touch of my hand through your hair and, if you believe enough…" Derek replied, leaving the rest for Stiles to fill in.

He was crazy, like every single person in this building, he was crazy. For the past 3 months he truly believed he had no right to be in this place and that he was normal, his beliefs were normal. But he was wrong.

He was the 17 year old boy who substituted his own guilt for his best friend's death with the belief that he had been turned into a mythical creature and was waiting for Stiles to come find him.

He was the 17 year old boy who became so lonely and scared that he created a werewolf from his mind, and every inch of his being believed that he was real and fell for him.

He was the 17 year old boy who probably sent his dad over to the edge of drinking again, until he slept against the kitchen table and woke up the next morning to the reminder that his son was a nutcase.

Stiles laid himself down carefully and stared up at the ceiling, his mind swimming with thoughts, with the voices, the screaming, and the doubts. He didn't know what was real anymore, was he even real? Was all of this a terrible nightmare that he would wake up to soon and laugh it off before heading off to school that morning with Scott?

"I want the pain to go away." Stiles whispered to no one in particular, just to anyone who was willing to make it go away. The crushing guilt that was pressing down so hard on his body he felt as if he was suffocating, the guilt of the pain and misery he'd caused to those around him.

Derek leaned over and placed a hand softly against the side of Stiles' head, the werewolf's hand cooling and calming. Stiles felt more tears run down his cheeks as his headache faded slightly but his head still dealing with his insanity. "I don't want to be insane."

"Then make me go. Your eyes are opened to what you've been clouding over for so long, I'm the only thing pinning you down to your insanity." Stiles' tired eyes widened at the thought and turned his head to face Derek whose face was neither judging or cruel. Stiles softly shook his head and placed his hand over Derek's.

"I can't… You make the pain go away, you make me smile, and ironically enough I felt like you were keeping me sane." Stiles lowered his eyes and grabbed Derek's other hand, his thumb running over the back of the werewolf's hand. "I don't care if you're real or not Derek, I can't let you go."

"But you'll never be really free from insanity if you do, Stiles."

Stiles shook his head and closed his eyes. "I don't care, I created you, you're in my mind and you're staying." Derek smiled slightly and shook his head at the kid's stubbornness.

"I'll always be with you, Stiles." Derek brushed a hand over Stiles' forehead and watched the broken boy's expression soften. "I'll be the glue that keeps the little bit of yourself left together."

"Dude, that's so fucking cheesy", Stiles sighed out with a small smile over his lips and he rested his hands on his chest; Derek snorted out a quiet laugh and lay down next to Stiles, wrapping his arms around him, protecting him.

"So Stiles, tell me about Scott." Stiles' eyes opened instantly as he carefully rolled onto his side to face Derek, an even wider smile plastered to his face.

"Okay so the first thing you need to know about Scott is that he's a_ werewolf_!"


End file.
